


That escalated quickly.

by GivenTheChonce_x (LoveAndChonce_95)



Category: Cricky - Fandom, Football RPF
Genre: A hint of smut, Early Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love, M/M, PA! Ricky, footie world is the worst, model! Cristiano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveAndChonce_95/pseuds/GivenTheChonce_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ricky and Cristiano have been working together for months. They've also been friends for months. Or have they ?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That escalated quickly.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lele28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lele28/gifts).



> Well that didn't exactly go the way I thought it would.  
> This was requested on tumblr and I hope it doesn't disappoint.
> 
> Credit of the last sentence to my beautiful Leticia. Adoro-te linda.
> 
> Enjoy it, folks.
> 
> Love, P.

 

 

 

« Cristiano ? _Oi, pode-se ?_ Where you at, Cris ? »

 

No sound. It was 8 am and Ricky was used to be welcomed in by a freshly showered Cristiano, ready for the day. Unless something had come up, he should be there. Ricky checked the schedule he’d prepared weeks ahead of it to be sure he wasn’t mistaken. 

 

He wasn’t. Cristiano had a photoshoot at 10.30 am and they had to get going to avoid being be late. Ricky went through the kitchen, the living room and a bathroom with no signs of him.

He got worried when even his bedroom was empty when he entered after knocking and getting no answer. Where the hell was he ? 

 

He heard some noise from the downstairs gym. Taking the steps two by two, he finally got a glimpse at his boss and best friend. What was he still doing working out ?

« Oi, _menino_. You might want to wrap it up quickly, we need to get on the road. »

« Good morning to you too, Ricardo. »

Alright, bad mood day. He could work with that. He knew how, right ?

« Morning, champion. Want to tell me why you’re not clean and in the car yet ? »

Cristiano grumbled something and turned away from Ricky, going for crunches on the bench. His back was glistening with sweat and his work out shorts - tiny as always - were drenched. His legs blood vessels were bulging out of the muscles, looking rather painful. 

« How long have you been here, Cris ? »

 

The player only rolled his eyes and changed the orientation of his crunches, going sideways. He was a bit short of breath and had started sweating from his scalp, which - to his personal assistant - was a sign that he had been busting his ass in the gym far too long.

« Cristiano, how long ? »

« Few hours. »

He humphed and rolled his shoulders back, relieving some pressure or attempting to do so. Few hours could mean anything from two to ten - it had happened after his father died. Ten long hours Ricky hadn’t been able to rip him out of his treadmill and rower, watching him sob and exhaust his body. He’d held him afterwards, the whole night long, calling in two physiotherapists in the morning and massaging himself his tense knots away.

 

Ricardo shook his head, thoughts getting back to the present situation. He took a look at his watch.. he could take half an hour to settle this out. He approached the bench, straddling it with his legs, eyes fixed on Cristiano.

The air felt a bit clammy, sticking to his skin. It was unusual for Manchester, even more in the middle of winter. He sighed, seeing the younger man reverse crunching, his legs flying over his stomach. The animosity he’d heard in his voice was now clearly written on his face, frowning and lips forming a thin line. He seemed to quicken his movements when he saw Ricky get closer, before he froze, a hand carefully placed on one of his ankles.

 

Ricky’s hand wrapped around his other leg, pulling them down so that he could move forward, knees bumping into each other. His fingers travelled up north, flying over his waist and gripping both shoulders to stop him from fleeing. 

« Okay now, tell me what’s gotten into you. »

« Nothing. »

He tried to shrug him away but as tiny as he was, Ricky had powerful hands. He didn’t budge.

« Look at me. You know it’s not going anywhere if you don’t cooperate. Come on, champion. »

 

His voice had gotten softer at the end, tongue curling around the words, spoken in Portuguese because he knew that had a calming effect on Cristiano. 

And it took half a minute but the player finally lift his head up, breathing heavy and rhythmical. His eyes were dark, the pupils enlarged to a black circle taking half his iris. Ricky noticed he was now practically straddling Cristiano’s waist and took a step back, keeping the contact with his shoulders though. He sat in front of the other man, still focused on the information being exchanged through the staring. 

 

He could read tiredness in them - nothing too surprising if he’d spent hours working out - but also eagerness as always - always doing better, going further - and fear. That was new. Cristiano was not someone to be afraid of anything. Stressed, yes, but he never doubted himself. There was something else in there too, something he was trying to keep hidden and partially managing to.

«  _Fala comigo._  »

He shook his head and turned it to the left, effectively cutting their visual link. Saying he was a bit lost would be lying. Saying he had no idea what was going through Cristiano’s mind would be right on point. He wasn’t used to not knowing. Ricky sighed again and moved his hand up to Cris’ neck, his thumb forcing him to face forward, pressing on his jaw bone. 

 

He opened his lips to speak again but froze, sound stuck in the throat. Cristiano had stopped breathing, his pupils blown up to their maximum, looking as uncomfortable as he’d ever looked with Ricky. And Ricky had caught him in rather awkward situations.

« What is — »

He was interrupted by a sharp intake of air and his eyes wandered down Cristiano’s chest, met his tiny pink shorts and the bulge there. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, he'd been his personal assistant for quite a good period of time after all.No, that wasn’t making Cristiano squirm on the bench, no. So what ?

« What is it ? »

Cristiano let out a little whimper like a wounded animal and circled his hips on the hardwood. Was he ? No. Was he seeking friction ? He was.. Cristiano was hard and aroused in front of him, trying to get some relief through contact. Electricity jolted in Ricky’s body, fingers slowly trailing down the younger man’s pectorals and abdominals, mindlessly aiming for that large mount tenting his shorts.

 

His knees knocked into Cristiano’s but his eyes didn’t move from his middle. He wasn’t even aware of the sounds he was provoking, waves flying over his bent head. His own breathing took up all the place in his chest, deep and rapid and his heart was beating in his ears with the strength of a hammer on a screw.

The back of his hand made contact with Cristiano’s erection, drawing a full-on moan from the excited man. That efficiently woke Ricky up from his transe,eyes opening wider in surprise. He jumped away but he wasn’t expecting Cris to react that fast. He circled his wrist and brought his palm back in contact with the fabric, pressing down on his hard member. He wasn’t thinking, neither of them were. They couldn’t.. but Ricky wanted this.

« You’re my boss. »

 

Cristiano closed his eyes and bit his lip. His fingers were loose around Ricky’s arm, giving him all the time and space to pull out.

« I’m older. »

 

Cristiano directed Ricky’s hand lower, swiftly bringing him to his balls, massaging softly in circles. 

« I.. I’m.. fuck yes, Cris. »

Ricky’s eyes were stuck on Cristiano’s teeth peaking out, diving on the plumb pink of his lower lip, making it glisten with saliva.He was hardening in his pants, growing uncomfortable in the tight and suffocating jeans. Cristiano’s abs twitched and a pearl of sweat got stuck in his belly button. 

« You.. you’re not. I’m not gay. »

 

Cristiano’s eyes opened abruptly, his hips closing in and his knees pushing Ricky away. The electricity was back, between them, crackling in the air. Ricky’s skin felt wet and salty, the clamminess worsened by the situation. When he met the younger man’s stare, he could see anger building up, along with that fear he’d perceived earlier. Shit, he’d said something wrong.

He backed out, sorting himself out with the palm of his hands, stretching his baby blue shirt straight. Cristiano didn’t say a word but he could feel his eyes digging a hole into his back. He coughed awkwardly and turned around, avoiding his face.

 

« We’re running late. _Tens que estar lá ás dez e meia_. Err.. you got ten minutes to get ready. Sorry. »

 

«  _Sempre desculpas_. »

 

Cristiano left the room, Ricky sighing in relief. Long day ahead.

 

____________________________________________________________

 

The photoshoot was a nightmare. Not for the photographer, not for the models, not for Cristiano, no. It was a nightmare for Ricky. The car ride had been uncomfortable and silent, Ricky driving and electricity fizzling between them along the way. Awkward and nerve-wracking but this… This.

Cristiano was shirtless, his pants peaking out from super skinny jeans, oiled skin rubbing on the thighs of the female model straddling him. Torture. He could see his hands gripping the girl’s hips and his smile above her shoulder, seducing the cameras with his looks. From his standing position in the corner of the steaming room, Ricky was sweating profusely and trying not to squirm too much.

 

He wasn’t gay no, but boy was he attracted to Cristiano.

 

There, he’d said it. Nothing new in the privacy of his own thoughts, he’d been fairly aware of that fact for weeks now. He was physically attracted to Cristiano Ronaldo, the footballer, his boss and best friend. He was utterly fucked.

 

The model on top of Cristiano shed a layer of clothing, letting her bra show. Ricky’s blood started boiling in his veins, seeing as she was nuzzling in his neck without any restraint. _Calma, Ricardo, calma_. It’s just a photoshoot, yeah ? What was it for again ? Why was Cristiano basically naked now, save for his boxers ? And why - oh why - was he staring at Ricky from his water couch ?

He faintly heard the assistants call for a five minutes break. He watched the female model climb down from Cristiano’s legs, her long manicured fingers wrapping around his biceps. She laughed obnoxiously to something he said, his own hand lingering on her waist. What a flirt. 

 

A thirsty flirt because he soon motioned for him to get closer. Make up artists were taking care of both models and Cristiano’s hands were then occupied because after all this was a.. a watch commercial ? Yeah, right, he’d totally blacked out on that. 

« Why do you need to be naked for a watch promo ? »

Cristiano lips quirked up and he cocked his head to the left. His eyes travelled down Ricky’s chest, focusing on his middle point… a slight swelling visible right under his belt buckle. Ricky tried to disguise his awkward cough by opening the bottle he’d been carrying for Cristiano. He failed, hearing a muffled laugh coming from below. 

« Nobody seems to mind, do they now.. huh Arabella ? »

« Oh not at all babe, you’re built. Who doesn’t love a chiseled physic ? »

 

Ricky’s eyebrows twitched, a frown taking residence on his face and a furious itch to growl creeping up his throat. His hands started shaking a bit when he realized he’d had to tip the water into Cristiano’s mouth himself since his precious hands - he was getting paid thousands for this shit after all - were occupied elsewhere. 

«  _Abre a boca._  »

He saw Cristiano raise his eyebrows at his weak but dry tone, but he obliged nonetheless and Ricky was relieved for a second. Before Cris purposefully pointed his tongue out and pushed some water over his lip, sending it trickling down his cut jaw and pooling in the hollow of his oiled up collarbone. Ricky stiffened, both in his stance and in his pants, and swore under his breath. Why did he have to be so attractive ?

 

« Okay people we’re back on, let’s wrap this up quickly, shall we ? »

A chorus of approbation met the photographer’s question and he grinned, satisfied. Ricky closed the bottle and pocketed it again, taking a step back and turning away from the couch. He tried adjusting himself without drawing attention but jumped when a hand landed on his hip, sliding around the top of his jeans and grazing his bum. He knew those fingers and he also knew the voice that came licking his ear. _Obrigado, podes esperar no carro._ And a pat on his bottom sent him away.

 

It was too much, too much and too intense for Ricky. He had to leave and apparently he was expected to. Thank you lord.

He found the car, climbed in and barely took the time to closed the door before moaning out loud. He turned the music on, not bothering with the radio station it was on but making sure it was noisy enough to cover his own sounds. Ricky pressed a hand to his crotch, feeling it throb under his palm. The button flew away and soon he was pulling at his cock furiously. 

 

He spat in his hand to make it slick and easier, wrapping his fingers around the base, up stroke fast and thumb digging in his slit. He was already panting, a light sweat covering his body, spent with frustration. He kept a steady rhythm, fast up, slow down, repeating a circle he knew all too well. His mind conjured pictures of a glistening back, defined muscles bulging with the rowing he was doing, dark hair dripping wet. He. He ? 

The crack of the butt was showing, the naked body in his mind stopping its movement while Ricky’s grew faster and harder, drawing full groans from his throat. He knew who was about to appear when the face turned and it made him both angry and hornier because fuck was he hot. Image-Cris came to image-Ricky and started grinding on his image-leg, the pressure mimicked by real-life-getting-off Ricky’ hand on his very-real-raised-hair thigh. He wouldn’t last long.

The image-kisses came afterwards and then the full on snogging session with Ricky obscenely crying Cristiano’s name in-between. Ricky’s hand was still flying over his hard cock, now seeing Cristiano’s mouth instead of his own fingers but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t wet and warm, and it wasn’t Cristiano. It was just Ricky getting some relief in his car. 

He opened his eyes and circled his base with his fingers, on the verge of orgasm, fighting to make it last a few seconds longer. He turned his head in pleasure, extending his neck to the left, meeting his own eyes in the mirror. He saw how big they were, pupil blown up to its maximum, and then he came. Hard, long. He came with his hand fondling his balls the way he liked it, he came hot in his own hand, he came with a breathy name on his lips.

He cleaned up as well as he could, coming down rather slowly from his high, images burned under his lids. Time didn’t mean anything to him right then, and he was surprised when Cristiano hopped in the car next to him, all freshen up and smelling like red apples.

 

Their eyes met, Cristiano’s sparkling mysteriously and then they were on the way. No words exchanged.

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

« Party tonight at Rooney’s. Want in ? »

Ricky cleared his throat.

« I don’t think you should go. »

« What now ? You’re my mother or something ? »

« No, but I’m your best friend. You’ve worked a lot today. »

 

« My best friend, really ? I’m not sure of your definition, but friends don’t jack off to thoughts of each other. »

 

Which.. okay, he was correct. Did that mean he’d done it before too ? Oh lord. They got out of the car once Ricky had parked it - clumsily you might say because fuck, this was going in a completely unexpected way. He just stood there then, carefully rested on the hood of his own engine. 

« I’m just looking out for you. »

 

Cristiano’s expression turned gray, false calmness completely gone.

« Don’t act all innocent on me, Ricky. You saw me this morning and I saw you in the car. Admite, caralho. »

 

He rounded the car, facing Ricky, hands on the hips and sour smirk playing on his lips.

« _Nao há nada para admitir_. I got nothing to say. You’re my boss and a very good friend, and we just happen to spend a lot of time in each other’s space and, err, like stumble in each other’s awkward situations. »

 

« Awkward situations ? Dammit Ricky, I could have literally come from your hand ON my shorts. Did you not realize that ? I would have ripped your clothes off and fucked you on that water couch if there hadn’t been anyone else around. How can you be that blind ? »

Ricky was at a loss of words. His jaw fell open and he took like a slap the anger in Cristiano’s words. There was something else under there, but Ricky did his best to keep his nagging threatening thoughts away from the front of his mind. 

 

« Fine, okay. I am physically attracted to you. Is that what you wanted to hear ? »

« No, but that’s a start. »

 

Cristiano sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging and closing in. 

 

« I’d understand if you don’t want to work with me anymore. » Ricky heard his own voice say, weak and somehow wet at the edges and winced. It was nothing compared to the look on Cris’ face though. He thought he could hear his heart shatter in his chest. 

« You don’t get it, do you ? You’re always making excuses for everyone. For me, for you, trying to find a reason to avoid acknowledging anything out of your comfort zone. I’ve been trying for weeks. Weeks, Ricardo. Yes, I’m your boss, yes you’re older.. what if I don’t care ? Have you even considered my view on this ? And don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve been receptive all along. »

 

He realized he had. Maybe he even flirted back without knowing… or rather without wanting to know. Shit, he’s such a jerk. Before he could think of an answer, Cristiano dropped the bomb. Ricky’s heart definitely crumbled in his chest this time, right after exploding with joy. Yes, joy… and want ?

«  ** _Estou apaixonado por ti. Mesmo. Desculpas esfarrapadas não mudam o que eu sinto, Ricardo_**. »

 

At that, he entered the house, leaving Ricky frozen in the driveway. Did he really just say that ? Did Cristiano Ronaldo confess his love - LOVE - for him right there, right now ? For him, a man ? A decent man, not too bad looking either but a male specimen nonetheless ?

Ricky shook his head before shooting a rock away, confused and lost like rarely. His brain was pulsing in his skull, sending waves through his whole body. He walked aimlessly in the garden, sat square on his butt in the grass, not caring if that stained his jeans. _O Cristiano está apaixonado por mim. Amor._ Love. Did Ricardo even know what that was ?

He’d had girlfriends. He’d had sex with them, and it had been good. He never was unsatisfied or uncomfortable with a girl, he knew what to do, how and when, it was easy. Comfortable.

 

He’d also never been attracted to a man before. Never in his life had he imagined himself kissing, or in bed, in a relationship with a man. 

Wait.. was he considering it ? Considering that something could actually happen between the two of them ? Did he even have feelings for Cristiano ?

 

Yes, yes he did. That wasn’t even a question. The jealousy he felt that afternoon was proof enough. His mind was serving him other similar incidents on a silver plate and he felt overwhelmed. That time a fan distracted Ronaldo too long - those times he felt ignored because he wasn’t really a fan. That time Cristiano cancelled their lads plans to go out with a random girl, the permanent constriction of his chest each time he was linked with a new woman. The warmth spreading in his thorax that one Christmas when Cris said his gift was his favorite. It was ridiculous.

Those days he’d find himself grinning at him on the field, pride filling his whole body. Those moody nights Cris called him because he needed a friend, and Ricky could have ditched his own wedding to attend to him and help him out. The cuddling afternoons on the couch, to which none of them would admit, but that were part of their relationship. Ricky didn’t love Cristiano only for his body or talent. To him he was not Ronaldo, he was Cristiano, Cris, an amazing generous and thoughtful man. A man that could appear like a brat or idiot to other who only saw the player, but a man who’d give everything and anything for his family, a man who’d always try harder and go further.

 

He was ridiculous and Cris was right. He’d kept on finding excuses for himself, to avoid the truth, suppress his feeling. The fat tears escaped his eyes without his control, thinking of all the doors he’d closed on himself, of how hard he’d been on himself for something that needed no changing. Being in love with Cristiano was not wrong. Being loved back by his handsome younger and famously talented boss was not despicable and would not damage him. 

It was a strength, a luck he never thought he’d have, a gift he needed to accept and he was about to prove he deserved it.

 

Walking in the house, he discarded his shoes, padding quietly across the tiled floor. He found Cristiano in the kitchen, head buried in his hands, bent between his knees. Ricky’s first instinct was to run to him and wrap him up in his arms like a child, protect him at all costs. He refrained.

 

He retained himself because he had things to say. Important things that needed to be shared. 

He stood against the doorframe, hip cocked to the side, wood digging in his shoulder. 

It took him exactly three minutes and twenty-five seconds.

 

«  _Tenho medo_. »

 

Cristiano didn’t jump up or jolt awake in his chair. He slowly raised his head, acknowledging Ricky’s presence, and dragged another chair away from the table. Ricky took the hint and reluctantly sat down in front of him. He didn’t meet his eyes but willed himself to stay calm and talk.

« I’m scared because, huh. There’s no nice way of saying this, I guess. I have been thinking about this for a while now, as you said, refusing to see it fully. I’ve repeated excuses to myself, maybe to avoid going further in a path that I’ve considered closed for so long. I mean, yeah maybe they are stupid excuses but you are my boss and I am older and those are all valid preoccupations of mine. The main one though is that I couldn’t really get over you being a - lord- , being a man. »

 

« You’re not gay. »

Cristiano stated it like it was, simple and plain in the open. Yet…

 

« I am not gay, but I do like you. I am attracted to you and that kept and keeps getting in the way. I can’t deny it. »

A small smile appeared on Cristiano’s lips, encouraging Ricky to continue. There was no point in lying or holding back now, was there ?

 

« You are a man and an absolutely stunning one at that, but you’re also a football player and couldn’t possible be into guys either. I never thought about you feeling anything towards me or any other male. It might have been homophobic of me, I don’t know. All I knew is that you were not gay and seeing all these beautiful girls and honestly I was a bit ashamed of my, hum, inclinations ? »

« You’re cute. »

« Stop it, I’m trying to be serious here » but it worked and Ricky smiled softly before getting up to relax his muscles.

 

« And you’re right, I am not gay but I am in love with you. There’s nothing wrong with that, despite the world we both work in.»

 

Cristiano joined him standing in front of the long glass wall, rain starting to blur the garden’s trees. He extended a hand but stopped before touching him, not entirely sure he could or should. Ricky nodded, sinking into the soft palm on his shoulder, eyelids dropping with the comfort seeping through it. 

He could feel Cristiano walking closer, probably right in front of him now, broad frame blocking the window. He could feel his skin radiating warmth, effectively giving the impression of a welcoming blanket wrapping around him, calming fingers leaving imprints on his arm. Soothing caresses of a thumb, unhurried silence that Ricky was thankful for. Oh dear.

 

« I think I’m in love with you too. »

 

He said it, relief flying clear in his confident voice. He’d said it. He'd finally accepted it. 

It would take some more work, he knew it would take some more convincing but maybe, just maybe, he would not be alone this time around.

 

«  _Achas_ ? You think ? »

 

Ricky opened his eyes, diving into Cristiano’s glistening ones, reading so much expectation there his breath got caught in his throat. He knew all long ? He’d read the signs and deciphered them before even Ricky did. Smart ass. A very loved up and pretty emotional smart ass. 

 

« Fuck. You’ve ruined me. I do. I .. jeez it’s hard to say. I love you Cris. »

 

The sun could have exploded right then that Ricky wouldn’t have noticed. The smile drew itself on Cristiano’s face, bringing his cheekbones up, crinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes. He was beaming at him. His arms went around the smaller man’s neck, one hand sneaking under his t-shirt’s collar, the other cupped around the back of Ricky’s head. _We’ll figure it out._

 

Ricky sighed deeply and let his forehead rest on Cristiano’s sternum, bathing in his scent and contentedness. _**Amo-te**. _ He felt lips in his hair, more on his temple, warmth on his cheek. They kissed, slowly, light touch of mouths, just to show the other they meant it. 

They kissed again just because they could, exploring the other in a new way. Cristiano's hands still in the same position, Ricky's finding home on his waist. They kissed and kissed like teenagers discovering what kissing was, and it was new, it was good. The sparkles between them hadn't disappeared, the electricity kept them flushed together, from toe to mouth, giggling a bit when one would make the other groan with pleasure.

_Amo-te_. And despite the long road ahead, they meant it.

 

Today had escalated rather quickly. Super quickly really.. but something in Ricky’s heart told him he wouldn’t regret it in the morning. Or ever, actually.

 

«  _Demorastes, eh rapaz ?_  »

 


End file.
